I tell myself it’s for the best. I tell myself I imagined the spark I felt with him. He’s a freaking billionaire that dates models and I’m the furthest thing from both of those things. He’s so far out of my league it’s not even funny. I tell myself all those things in hopes that I’ll believe them.
A half hour later I’m nursing my second coke and Lisa and Jayden are still on the dance floor but now they’re surrounded by other men and women vying for their attention.
I’m just taking a sip of my drink when I see somebody approach me from my peripheral vision. Looking over I see a guy dressed in a button down, blue shirt untucked and wrinkled jeans approaching.
“Hey sweetheart. What are you doing sitting over here all by yourself?” I stiffen at the term of endearment.
Sweetheart. I freaking hate that word. What’s supposed to be a term of endearment brings back bad memories for me.
Although he’s standing on the other side of the table, the stench of alcohol is so strong it’s nearly suffocating. And it’s not just any alcohol. It’s the smell of whiskey. That and his cologne combine to create a scent that is overpowering. It takes everything in me not to gag.
Fighting to keep a straight face and not cover my nose I reply, “No thank you. I’ve already got one” I lift my drink up so he can see it.
His eyebrows knit, and his mouth gapes open slightly like he can’t believe I just turned him down. Then like flipping a switch a smirk crosses his face.
“Then how about you dance with me?” His words are slurring slightly. It doesn’t take a genius to realize he’s drunk.
“No thank you, I’m just people watching,” I say politely.
Just as quickly as the smile appeared on his face, it vanishes. Before I know it, he’s invading my personal space and standing way to close for comfort.
My back stiffens the stench of alcohol nearly choking me.
“What’s your problem? I just wanna dance. Why are you acting all funny?”
I start to respond when I hear a deep voice say, “I believe the lady said no.”
Looking to my left I see the guy from the bar that I couldn’t stop staring at.
My breath catches in my throat at seeing him up close and personal.
He’s not looking at me however, his eyes are trained on whiskey-breath standing next to me.
Whiskey-breath’s eyes widen “H-hey, Liam.”
“What do you think you’re doing, Lenny?” he asks folding his arms over his chest. The action causes the muscles in his arms to bunch and flex in ways that have my thighs clenching beneath the table.
Lenny holds his hands up in surrender. “I was just trying to buy her a drink or dance.”
Liam’s eyes narrow and then he looks at me and it’s like a punch to the gut.
What the hell is wrong with me?
“Is he bothering you?” Having the force of his eyes locked onto mine has a warmth invading my stomach and spreading outwards. His eyes widen slightly when they lock with mine before he turns back to whiskey breath.
“I was just trying to enjoy my drink,” I say.
“I think it’s time for you to home.” Liam looks over his shoulder and motions to somebody with two fingers. Two big guys immediately come over and escort Lenny out despite his protest.
Then it’s just him and I.
“Are you alright?” he asks.
“Yes, thank you for stepping in” I fidget with a stray curl.
“No problem, Lenny’s a regular around here. He’s usually harmless, I don’t know what the issue was tonight,” Liam says running a hand through his hair. The deep and husky quality to his voice has my thighs instinctively clenching together.
Holy shit, if I thought he was gorgeous standing across the room, it’s really no comparison to what looking at him up close and personal is like.
High cheekbones. A strong jaw. Full lips. The clearest green eyes I have ever seen. Broad shoulders. He’s like a work of art. It takes me a minute to realize that I’m staring again and I recognize belatedly that his eyes are sweeping over my face slowly, like he’s committing my features to memory.
Self-consciousness sets in. My hand instinctively goes to the bridge of my nose when I see his eyes pause and lock onto the freckles that rest there and spread out over my cheeks.
He has a quiet authority and commanding presence about him that has this calming yet alarming effect on me. I feel comfortable in his presence yet, I want to jump his bones at the same time. It makes no sense. I’ve never seen somebody so attractive in person. In magazines or on TV sure, but never in person.
His eyes come back to mine before he holds out a hand. “My name is Liam.”
I cautiously place my hand in his and a swirl of electricity shoots down my arm and through my body warming places that haven’t been active for a very long time, if ever. I drop his hand, but not before I see the slight widening and darkening of his eyes.
“Ava,” I reply.
“Ava,” he repeats, and a shiver runs through me at the way he says my name in that deep, sexy voice of his.
Discombobulated, I pull my eyes from his face, trying hard to focus on something else when I notice a bracelet tied around his wrist. The thread is blue, and it has the beads with the letters on them spelling out his name in black and white. Different shades and shapes of blue beads surround the ones with his name spelled out on them. It’s one I know all too well and something I never expected to see around his wrist.
“Where’d you get that?” I
